


Firebird's Feather

by PaniJeziora



Category: Profiler
Genre: Discovering yourself, F/F, Gen, Homophobic Language, Pre-Relationship, Profiler Secret Santa 2014, antisemic language, implied Bailey/Sam, un-betaed work, underage dinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 10:29:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3116750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaniJeziora/pseuds/PaniJeziora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Firebird's Feather symbolizes beginning of a quest</p>
<p>Slightly - AU(no father shooting, and Frances is a little bit better adjusted to life, Sharon is the unknown factor, Jack is on the loose whrecking havoc and) Frances gets sex lesson from pretty blonde she meets at the gay bar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Firebird's Feather

**Author's Note:**

  * For [empty_marrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/empty_marrow/gifts).



Frances wasn't sure how she got here.

Alright, that was a lie. She knew perfectly well how. It all boiled down to last weeks Christmas party at her dad's co-worker house. 

She got dragged there against her will, and protests, and threats of calling child protective services, and while her father's normally unmovable face twitched with annoyance at her shouts, she still had been forced to go.

Don't get her wrong. She liked George and Grace, but still burned with humiliation when seeing John, and bitterness when she caught sign of Sam. In the end, however, she put her shoes and coat on, like dutiful daughter she never was, and went to that cursed party.

Oh how she wishes she never stepped into that house, now. 

But that was then, this is now, and now was her sitting in a known homo club, looking at men dancing together, if you could call it like that (Frances would call it screwing on dance floor), and trying to ignore girls doing the same.

Trying, but too often she would herself having to force her eyes away from a kissing lesbian couple or a stray blonde woman in short skirt or a brunette in low cut top.

No! She was here to test Bridgette's theory, not to question her own sexuality! She was nearly 18 for fuck's sake! She knew what she liked, and okay, maybe boys, or even men didn't excite her in that deep, hot and bothered way the girls were always talking about, but it didn't mean she was a lesbian! C'mon! She had felt 'the heat' seeing George making out with his boytoy! That had to mean something! According to Bridgette all straight girls liked gay porn! And since she walked in on George with that guy, she couldn't stop thinking about it! Damn, it was hot.

Frances never really considered George handsome. Cute? Sure! With the curly floppy hair, and sweet, big brown eyes. But he was a Jew! AND gay! But seeing him with that redhead, gods!

She shifted in her seat, feeling the heat gathering at the bottom of her belly. 

"You looking a bit lost, sweetie" a friendly voice sounded to her right. Frances turned to see a pretty blonde, a couple of years older, smiling at her with understanding in her eyes. 

"First time here?" blonde continued. "I'm Sharon, by the way"

"Frances", she replied curtly. Apparently Sharon was not moved by that tone, since she signalled barman to replace their drinks.

The woman smiled, showing her white teeth beneth lips painted blood-red.

“Never Frankie?” she teased.

Frances grimanced.

“Never twice” she answered, taking a sip of her new coke and rum.

"You know", Frances' new-found 'friend' started, she had a pleasant, cheerful voice. "Someone as pretty as you shouldn't be sitting here all lonely like that"

Frances turned back towards dance floor in attempt to hide her blush. It wasn't the first time someone paid her compliments. Sharon wasn't even the first woman to stop and try to chat her up tonight. But there was something in her eyes. Something dangerous and mischievous that Frances felt herself drawn in.

"Maybe I'm waiting for someone to make me less lonely" she purred, finally. Flirting she knew. Flirt she could do with her eyes closed and half-asleep.

Sharon laughed, and Frances felt the slight shake in her knees at the sound. Only John's smile ever worked at her that way. 

"Oh, little girl," teased blond woman. "The things I could show you!"

Frances leaned her elbows on the bar and fluttered her eyelashes in fake innocence. 

"Oh, but mrs.Sharon! Do, pray, continue!"

Both laughed, and Frances felt a flicker of heat star in her belly.

“Tell me more about yourself, since you insist on keeping me company” she smiled as sweetly as she knew how. Sharon shook her head, blonde stands flying before settling around her face like halo. She ran a slim finger over the rim of her drink, disrupting a few glittery sprinkles from the edge.

“Well, I’m what you could call….hmmm…Jill-Of-All-Trades” Sharon answered after a couple of seconds of thoughts.

Frances blinked, and laughed softly.

“Jill-Of-All-Trades? First time I hear about such thing! What are you? Female MacGyver?” 

Sharon tapped her chin as in though.

“You could say that. “she decided finally. “My partner and I run a company. We repair what was broken, and if we can’t me make a new thing out of it!” 

Frances blinked at her enthusiasm. Here was a woman who really must have loved her job. 

“So what, you are mechanic like? Or a scrap-artist?”

Before the other woman could reply, Frances heard her name being called from her other side. They both turned towards the voice.

A thin, blond man was waiting at the end of the bar, when their attention was finally on him, he tapped his wristwatch and arched an eyebrow at their matching looks of disappointment. 

Sharon sighed. And turned back towards Frances, who frowned. Blonde woman shrugged and smiled withdrawing a small business card from a side of her bra. Frances arched her own eyebrow, mimicking the man. She would have to remember that trick next time she goes out with her friends.

Frances took it when Sharon handed it over, looking at handwritten number and lipstick print on the back. Blonde smiled.

"Call me up if you ever fell like joining the dark side" she said and with a wink, joined the man. Frances watched them both walk out of the bar.

She glanced back at the card "Jack and Jill" it said in the small letter under the number, and then S. Waters, in pretty cursive.

Frances chuckled at coincidence. Waters was Sam's surname. She will have to tell her about it when they meet up for breakfast in the kitchen one of those mornings.

She shoved the card into her own bra, and with a smile ignored its sharp poking. Drowning last of her drink, Frances decided to call up Bridgette tomorrow morning and tell her, her theory was bullshit. 

Or maybe she will call up Sharon, see what 'dark side' is really about.

 

fin

**Author's Note:**

> for those who didn't catch. sharon meant dark side as her and jack, frances  
> thought it meant lesbian sex orgy ;) though with sharon you can never be sure !
> 
> sorry for all the typos and probably not making a lot of sense. my first work in years! would kiss for a beta ;)


End file.
